After a full day and night’s travel, the team arrived in Baltimare around noon on the day before the meeting would officially start. To pass the time, keep their reflexes sharp and starve off boredom, the racers spent much of the long day travelling flying through some wide open valleys and once again proving that Concorde was by far the slowest of the three in terms of straight line speed, though as soon as more than one corner was involved, things levelled back out again.
As the train rolled through the city towards the station, the team admired the mix of rustic and more modern architecture of the buildings
“It’s been a while since I was here last.” Ratchett remarked. “Have any of you ever been here before?”
“Once, yeah.” Dash answered.
“I know nothing about this place, besides that daft joke.” Maffett shrugged.
“What joke’s that?”
“Concorde, give that back!” Spanner suddenly said hotly, catching everyone’s attention.
“Just gonna see how far it goes.” Concorde smiled before launching something across the carriage. When it hit the far door and fell to the floor, they saw it was a piece of flexible plastic with a loop of elastic at either end that Spanner usually wore over his moustache at night.
“You really are a damn foal.” Spanner sighed as he retrieved it and put it back in his bag.
“What’s that thing for, anyway?” Concorde asked.
“I wear it so I can keep my moustache from, erm.” Spanner started, thinking of a good word.
“Keep your moustache from what?” Maffett injected almost instantly, finding the idea amusing. “Hair eating bugs and/or Breezies?”
“Moustache snoods are useful for keeping a moustache from getting messy while you sleep.” Ratchett added, though no one had ever heard the word before.
“What other paraphernalia do you have to protect your ‘taches?” Concorde asked. “Special spoons to keep it from staining? Little strainers to keep your ‘tache from dipping into a drink?”
Ratchett and Spanner exchanged looks before deciding not to answer the question.
“Anyway, Baltimare.” Ratchett said, changing the subject. “Formerly a heavily used port town before Manehatten expanded so most trade goes through there.”
“Well known for its moustaches, right?” Concorde added, though Spanner just ignored him and continued.
“The track’s in the Inner Harbour, downtown. The weather’s not going to be controlled this weekend so we can expect a few breezes coming off Horseshoe Bay, usually down the main straight so you’ll be flying straight into it.”
“That’ll be a piece of cake.” Dash smiled. “I’ve orchestrated supplying Cloudsdale from the Ponyville Reservoir so flying in high wind isn’t a problem.”
“Excellent. What about you two?” Spanner continued, looking at Dust and Concorde.
“Well, Windy Valley’s named as such for a reason, but it’s not on Dash’s level.” Concorde said, making Dash grin broadly.
“It’s just a breeze, it won’t get in my way.” Dust said simply as the train started to pull into Baltimare Station.
“Even a breeze can take its toll after a while, Dust.” Spanner said as the team went to get their bags together. “The main straight is the best point to rest but you can find yourself fighting harder for laps on end just to get down it if the breeze is persistent or picks up.”
Dust didn’t answer as she got her things together and followed Fleetfoot out of the carrage and onto the busy platform. While Equestria was hardly lacking for variety in the many different species that populated it, it was a surprise to see so many of them in a single place. Griffins, Zebras, Donkeys, Goats, Dogs and more were just as numerous as ponies here as they went about their work, got off the train and greeted friends and family who were waiting for them.
“Could you get some trolleys, Concorde?” Fleet asked as he leaned the old guitar he’d brought with him against his bags.
“Sure.” He said before disappearing into the crowd.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Coco. She should be waiting for us somewhere.” Rarity said before trotting off as well.
Dash jumped up and hovered above the team, keeping an eye out for their companions as Dust pulled out the track map they’d been studying between practice sessions and on the train to have another look.
The track consisted of a lot of straights and tight corners as it wound through the streets with a few fast, flowing corners thrown in for good measure.
The main straight was long, but not long enough to get up to supersonic speeds. The first corner, a right hoof corner that was tight enough to just assay come back in on itself, quickly turned into the second corner which gentled went left before a short straight towards a tight hairpin for turn three.
The hairpin turned fully back on itself, into a short straight to a ninety degree left hoof corner onto the back straight, which was nearly as long as the main straight. After a left, right, left chicane, the track turned left normally but also turned right for the pit entrance, which due to space constraints was at the back of the track.
At the end of the pit straight, the track turned ninety degrees right again into two flowing corners, left and then right and into a tight but fast ninety degree right into another short straight, which went into another flowing right and left.
According to the Tools, the track had previously immediately turned right back onto the main straight, but now there was another short straight into a ninety degree right, yet another short straight and then, in quick succession, another ninety degree right and ninety degree left back onto the main straight. This section had been added a few years ago to stop ponies going supersonic and blowing out the windows of the surrounding buildings.
One lap lasted around one minute and twenty five seconds and the stop/start nature of most of the corners could wear them out quite quickly, but after all the training Dust had put herself through she knew she could do it.
Dust returned the map to its bag as Dash landed next to her. Looking up through the crowd, she spotted Concorde walking towards them, accompanied by a brown bodied Earth Pony stallion. He had a purely white mane and tail and wore a knitted green vest over a white shirt, as well as a red bow tie.
“Where’s the trolley?” Fleet asked as he approached, now she’d noticed he didn’t have any.
“Well, if you believe him,” Concorde said, nodding to the stallion. “It’s on its way.”
“Is this stal taking us to the hotel?” Dust asked.
“He could, but he’s also my dad.” Concorde smiled, before adding to his father in an overly authoritative voice, along with a dismissive wave of his hoof. “Now, carry my bags, bellhop!”
“Carry your own bags, lad.” He smiled in return, his accent much strong then Concorde’s. Dust then noticed something had followed him. It was a big trolley, big enough to carry all their bags, with a magic motor attached to the back which seemed to be driving it. “Failing that, you can test this for me.”
“Last time I tested something for you, it nearly killed me, so I’ll pass.” Concorde remarked, going to get his bags.
“Bristol Cayley, right?” Fleetfoot asked the stallion.
“It is, aye.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” She smiled, shaking his hoof. From what Dash knew, Spitfire made any sponsorship agreements in private so Fleet must not have been directly involved.
“Likewise, Fleetfoot. They haven’t caused you too much trouble, have they?” He asked, glancing at Concorde and Maffett.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Oh, I would, but any stories can wait for now. I put together this little thing before I flew out here so we can move your stuff quickly and easily.” Bristol smiled, patting the motorized trolley.
“How’s it following you?” Spanner asked, investigating the motor. Bristol just smiled as he pulled a small item out from the collar of his vest.
“I’m testing this little gizmo for a friend, which activates the steering and gears depending on where the holder is so it can follow. Gearing needs a bit of work but it seems ok so far.”
“Well, you’re paying if any of our stuff breaks.” Concorde remarked as the team started loading up their bags. Bristol just smirked as he returned the gizmo to his pocket.
“Erm, excuse me?” A new voice poked into the conversation, drawing their attention.
The voice belonged to an Earth Pony mare with an off white coat, two toned blue mane and tail and similarly coloured eyes. She wore a lavender sailor collar with a scarlet tie and a tri-shade hair clip in the back of her mane as well as two packed saddle bags.
“Can we help you, love?” Bristol asked.
“Erm, yes. Would you happen to be the Wonderhawks?” She asked with a Manehatten accent.
“We are.” Maffett answered. “Would you happen to be Rarity’s friend Coco?”
“I am, yes.” She smiled.
“Cool, I’m Maffett. She actually went to look for you as soon as we arrived.”
“Oh. Well, I was stood at the end of the platform when the train arrived and I didn’t see her.”
“Maybe if we start discussing disastrous colour combinations out loud it’ll draw her back.” Concorde offered as he dumped another suitcase on the motorised trolley.
“Well,” Fleet mused, smiling as an amusing memory came to mind. “We could discuss a dress she apparently made for Spitfire. It was peach with a pink-”
“Do not say another word.” Came the angry growl of Rarity, who had appeared as if from nowhere to pin Fleet’s mouth shut.
The team were taken aback as the scene remained static for a moment before Rarity let go of Fleet and composed herself.
“Coco, it’s so good to see you.” She smiled, giving the Manehatten mare a hug as well as kissing her on both cheeks, though she still looked as taken aback as everyone else.
“Erm, it’s good to see you as well, Rarity. I’m sorry I didn’t see you when you were looking for me.”
“That’s alright. To tell the truth, I was talking to the platform guard about his uniform.”
“Was it as bad as this dress of Spitfire’s?” Dash asked, Rarity returning a somewhat furious look.
“That was a travesty and should never be spoken of again.” She said simply, the team exchanging amused glances.
“How about we catch up over coffee and let the team get settled?” Coco offered after a second’s silence.
“Good idea.” Rarity smiled and with that, the pair disappeared into the crowd, chatting away.
“Shame this thing doesn’t have wheels or I’d roll it after her.” Ratchett remarked as he and Spanner lifted Rarity’s pink couch onto the motorised trolley.
“Is that everything, colts?” Fleet asked, having realised they’d managed to get them to load everything onto the motorised trolley.
“Yep.” Concorde confirmed as he slung his guitar over his shoulder.
“Still don’t trust anyone with your guitar?” Maffett asked.
“Nope.”
“You’re terrible on that.” Dust said simply.
“What are you talking about? I make this lump of wood sing, mare!”
“Like a drunken teen at karaoke.” Maffett injected.
“Why did you even bring that with you?” Dash asked as the motorised trolley started to follow Bristol towards the station entrance, it’s little engine whirling away under the weight of everything it was carrying as they followed.
“It was a present from my Grandparents and a bit of a good luck charm.” He said, this time without the French pronunciation of ‘Grandparents’. “Everyone was trying to find out what my talent was as soon as possible, but they bought this maybe a day before I got this beaut.” He smiled, patting his cutie mark.
Before anyone could question him future, the motorised trolley started jerking forwards, a loud grinding coming from the gear box. As it ground to a halt, one of the gears fell out of the box and rolled away across the platform.
“Looks like it’s time to start pushing.”